_Whim._ What will you confess? we were only going behind yon Hedge to untruss a point; that’s all. _Whiff._ Ay, your Honours will smell out the truth, if you keep us here long. _Dar._ Here, carry them Prisoners to my Tent. [Ex. Soldiers with _Whim._ and _Whiff_. Enter _Ranter_ without a Hat, and Sword drawn, _Daring_ angrily goes the other way. _Ran._ A pox of all ill luck, how came I to lose _Daring_ in the fight? Ha--who’s here? _Dullman_ and _Timorous_ dead--the Rogues are Counterfeits.--I’ll see what Moveables they have about them, all’s lawful Prize in War. [Takes their Money, Watches and Rings; goes out. _Tim._ What, rob the dead?--why, what will this villanous World come to? [Clashing of Swords, just as they were going to rise. Enter _Hazard_ bringing in _Ranter_. _Haz._ Thou cou’dst expect no other Fate, young Man; thy Hands are yet too tender for a Sword. _Ran._ Thou look’st like a good-natur’d Fellow, use me civilly, and _Daring_ shall ransom me. _Haz._ Doubt not a generous Treatment. [They go out. _Dull._ So the Coast is clear, I desire to move my Quarters to some place of more safety-- [They rise and go off. Enter _Wellman_ and Soldiers hastily. _Well._ ‘Twas this way _Bacon_ fled. Five hundred Pound for him who finds the Rebel. [Go out. SCENE IV. Changes to another part of the Wood. Enter _Bacon_ and _Fearless_ with their Swords drawn, all bloody. _Bac._ ‘Tis just, ye Gods! that when ye took the Prize for which I fought, Fortune and you should all abandon me. _Fear._ Oh, fly, Sir, to some place of safe retreat, for there’s no mercy to be hop’d if taken. What will you do? I know we are pursu’d, by Heaven, I will not die a shameful Death. _Bac._ Oh, they’ll have pity on thy Youth and Bravery, but I’m above their Pardon. [A noise is heard. _Within._ This way--this way--hay halloo. _Fear._ Alas, Sir, we’re undone--I’ll see which way they take. [Exit. _Bac._ So near! Nay, then to my last shift. [Undoes the Pomel of his Sword. Come, my good Poison, like that of _Hannibal_; long I have born a noble Remedy for all the Ills of Life. [Takes Poison. I have too long surviv’d my Queen and Glory, those two bright Stars that influenc’d my Life are set to all Eternity. [Lies down. Enter _Fearless_, runs to _Bacon_, and looks on his Sword. _Fear._ --Hah--what have ye done? _Bac._ Secur’d my self from being a publick Spectacle upon the common Theatre of Death. Enter _Daring_ and Soldiers. _Dar._ Victory, Victory! they fly, they fly, where’s the victorious General? _Fear._ Here,--taking his last Adieu. _Dar._ Dying! Then wither all the Laurels on my Brows, for I shall never triumph more in War; where are the Wounds? _Fear._ From his own Hand, by what he carried here, believing we had lost the Victory. _Bac._ And is the Enemy put to flight, my Hero? [Grasps his Neck.